


Superposition — Peter Parker x Reader

by crowflower



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Marvel Universe, Natasha as a Mother Figure, Natasha deserved better, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie) Spoilers, Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers, Superpowers, plot heavy, reader with powers, y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowflower/pseuds/crowflower
Summary: "I don't believe in fate, no psychic vision. But when things fall into place, superposition."You don't believe in destiny or fate. Everything happens for a reason, even if that reason cannot be explained. As a child, you knew Peter Parker. You were friends, and then you weren't. He was your childhood crush—a passing phase. Life just gets in between people before they can ever really get to know each other, and that's okay. But when tragedy strikes and you find yourself blessed (or cursed) with superpowers, you discover that perhaps life has a way of bringing people together, too.//this will eventually cover and/or reference the events of the most recent Avengers and Spider-Man movies





	1. Flashback

You still remember the first time you saw Peter Parker. Your family had just moved to Queens from Phoenix for your father’s job. It was a pretty big transition—at nine years old, you were just old enough to remember the rugged landscape and warm weather. You spent so much time in the pool in your early years that your parents joked someday you might grow gills and live in the water forever. New York was too cold to swim year ‘round unless it was indoors and you were not pleased about needing to wear layers instead shorts and a tank top. While you were struggling to adapt, your sister, Hayley, could not be more suited for city living. Hayley is five years older than you; curvy and beautiful. You envied how your sister so easily made friends when you struggled to even make eye contact with your classmates. Life is tough for a girl who would much rather be on her own to be thrust into the hustle and bustle of New York City.

Several months after the initial move, your family had finally settled into your cramped town home and the end of the academic year was on the horizon. It was not so hard for you. Fourth grade was a breeze and you tended to spend most of your time reading the latest fantasy novels or sketching the crazy monsters from your dreams the night before. Hayley, however, was constantly busy with both end-of-the-year dance performances and final exams. You never understood why your sister was so stressed. She was—is—the smartest person you know. Hayley was good at everything she tried to do, asked questions when she was confused, and never hesitated to help you or others when they needed it. In your eyes, she was the greatest person alive. The most capable person to walk the earth.

On one particular night, you remember sitting in your room watching  _ Star Wars: The Phantom Menace _ when you heard lots of commotion in the living room. Dad was gone for the weekend on a business trip so most nights the entire house was silent... Confused, you paused the movie and listened to the voices, clutching your stuffed toy to your chest. Your mom’s voice rang over the clamor of scooting chairs and heavy objects thudding against the kitchen table. **“Welcome, welcome!”** she exclaims. Why were a bunch of people barging in? Oh yeah, Hayley mentioned something about a group project. You can hear Mom taking out dishes and opening the refrigerator. She was probably making snacks—there’s very little Mom loved more than when people came to visit the house. Part of you wanted to ignore everything and finish your movie, but you were a curious child, albeit a little shy, and could not resist the urge to investigate just who invaded your normally silent house. 

The first person you saw as you peeked around your door frame was Hayley. A bright smile lit up her features as she took a seat beside a pretty girl with dark frizzy hair, laughing about a joke you must have missed. You recognized the other girl as MJ. She was close friends with Hayley, at the time, so you saw her a lot. She was very kind in a quirky sort of way and talked to you about nerdy stuff like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. Someone knocked on the door just then. You heard Hayley say, **“—must be Ned and Peter,”** right as your mom opened the door. A short boy with warm tan skin stepped in first, a wide grin decorating his features as he waved at the girls. And there, behind the other youth, you saw the most beautiful boy you have ever laid your eyes upon. He was rather short with a halo of soft brown curls and sweet eyes that reminded you of Bambi. An awkward smile tugged at his lips as he entered the room, perhaps embarrassed from all the attention he was receiving. You certainly could not stop staring at that baby-faced boy, a fact you regretted because as your mom was closing the front door behind him, she caught sight of your head poking out into the hallway. You caught her gaze and panicked, ducking back into the safety of your room. 

But it was just a moment too late. **“Y/N, come out and meet your sister’s friends!”** Mom called in that cheery voice of hers. As much as you wanted to slam your door shut and hide away the rest of the night, there was no denying your desire to meet the older kids. You decided to leave your stuffed toy behind before venturing out into the open. Your steps were timid, but as you turned the corner you were surprised to see Hayley waiting for you. She took your hand and lead you into the kitchen where the boys and the girl were sitting. **“Ned, Peter, this is my little sister, Y/N. She’s a little shy,”** Hayley said. The two teenagers smiled at you politely, not particularly interested in talking to a little kid but not wanting to be rude, either.

**“Um, hello,”** you stammered, struggling to meet their gazes.

**“Nice to meet you, Y/N,”** Ned said. He offered you another wide-toothed grin, dazzling you. For some reason, Ned reminded you of a disney princess because his smiles were so warm and comforting. You would never  _ ever _ tell him that, though.

**“I like your stormtrooper pj’s,”** Peter said suddenly. A scarlet blush flared on your cheeks, eyes flickering up to stare at the boy who had just given you a compliment. You somehow managed to murmur a meek **“thank you”** in response to Peter, but from the way that he frowned ever-so-slightly, he probably did not catch what you said. Not like you noticed. Your heart was thundering too loud in your chest for you to focus properly. You stared at him for several moments like a deer in the headlights, vaguely aware of other people speaking to you, before you yanked your hand out of Hayley’s grasp and darted back to your room. And that was it. That was your first, gloriously awkward meeting with Peter Parker. Looking back on it, you surmise that he quickly forgot about the whole situation but you were ashamed of yourself for several months afterwards.

Later on, you learned that Peter lived down the street with his aunt. Since he was in several classes with your sister, he came over to your house often to work on group projects. You tried to keep your crush on the boy a secret, but you were never very good at lying. MJ and Hayley thought it was cute (and a little funny) that you liked Peter, so they were always encouraging you to emerge from your room and join them all as they collaborated on their schoolwork. The girls even managed to convince you to ask him for help on your math homework, and eventually he began to tutor you every Tuesday and Thursday. Granted, it mostly consisted of him talking and making bad jokes while you stared at him shyly when he was not paying attention. 

This went on for about a year or so until your sister and her friends finished their freshman year of high school. MJ and Hayley seemed to drift apart, especially after your sister started focusing more on becoming a dancer and following a less academic route. Peter stopped coming over to tutor you almost out of the blue. One week, it was business as usual. And the next, it was like he was nowhere to be found. Little ten year old you was heartbroken, but your mom explained that people grow apart all the time and that you would move on eventually. It took some time, but you eventually got over Peter Parker. With aliens invading almost every other year and the arrival of Spider-Man on the scene, you became obsessed with superheroes. Although Star Wars still held a special place in your heart, posters of the Avengers gradually began to replace the ones of Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker. You joined the art club at school, started playing soccer and softball, and finally started enjoying your life in the city.

While you might have moved on from Peter, you will never forget him. And who knows, maybe you will meet him again one day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my tumblr @ crowflowerss


	2. Sparks When We Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have had good luck your entire life. That is what you have always thought, at least. 
> 
> There was that one time you completely forgot to finish the big school project and you spent the whole day worrying about it, only to find out that your teacher called out sick and the presentations were postponed for another day. The night a couple months ago when your parents were gone for the weekend so you decided to sneak out and hang out with your crush, returning home only minutes before your parents sent a neighbor to come over and check up on you and your sister. All those little mistakes and stupid decisions never affected you as much as they might have for other kids your age. 
> 
> Things have always seemed to work out in your favor. But not today. Today, everything changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Graphic depictions of pain in this chapter!!***
> 
> This chapter takes place during the events of Avengers: Infinity War. Specifically, the attack on Greenwich Village where they capture Doctor Strange and everyone goes to space. I took a couple (a lot) of liberties here, but I tried to keep it as similar to the movie as I could manage. Can you believe that this was supposed to be a short chapter? I had a bit too much fun writing this. Oops.

You stare out the window, lazily observing the myriad of cars and people that dance across your vision. Hayley, your older sister, shifts in the seat beside you, rolling her eyes at a stupid joke your dad just made about pedestrians, or something. The plan for today was to have a nice lunch with the family somewhere in Greenwich Village, but Dad has missed his turn at least seventeen times now. And Mom? Well, let’s just say that your parents, as intelligent as they are, fail miserably when it comes to doing what the GPS tells them. Anything from misjudging how far “500 ft” is to mixing up right from left, they’ve done it all. You’re starving, and by the way Hayley meets your annoyed gaze with her own, you can tell your sister feels the same. Would it really have been that bad to order take out?

**“What the hell is that?”** You hear Mom say, voice trembling with fear. A crease forms between your furrowed brows as you follow her gaze out the window, gasping at the sight of a massive ship descending from the sky.

It is about the size of one of those massive freight trains you see at the train yards, but it’s been curved into a circle. Or maybe it’s Q-shaped? If the ship was not descending right above where you and your parents were currently stuck in traffic, you might have been in awe of the intricate design of the structure. You’ve never seen alien tech this close—not even during the Battle of New York a couple of years ago. You cannot even begin to be excited about this situation, though, because if you don’t move, you are positive that you will be caught in the middle of whatever disaster is about to happen.

**“Hayley! Y/N! Get out of the car!”** Your dad shouts over the clamor of people fleeing. **“We need to get out of here!”**

The thunderous beating of your heart drowns out all other sounds as you fumble with the buckle on your seat belt, struggling out of the car with all the grace of a newborn gazelle. You are terrified. A strong wind gusts through the area, threatening to knock you off of your feet. Is that coming from the ship..? Metal and plastic shriek as an entire car is tossed into a light post, shocking you back into reality. Your eyes widen at the sight of superheroes gathering down at the far end of the street, and you might have stared at the scene all day had Hayley not grabbed your wrist and started tugging you in the other direction.

Your sister says something to you, but you can’t hear anything over the screaming of the wind and debris being tossed around you. **“What?”** you shout back, eyes flickering around in search of your parents. **“Wait—where are Mom and Dad?”**

**“I don’t know!”** Your sister yells, the strong winds making her voice seem small. **“Just keep moving! We will find them after!”** You follow after Hayley, weaving through wrecked cars and crumbling buildings as a battle ensues between the superheroes and the invaders. You have seen enough movies to know that you should not stop and look back at what’s going on. You know and yet you cannot stop yourself from taking a peek at Doctor Strange and Iron Man (and a couple others you do not recognize) fighting the aliens.

An utter mistake. A dumb, stupid, completely moronic decision which has separated you from your sister. **“Y/N!”** Hayley screams. **“Look out!”** You glance up just in time to see half of a car behind thrown in your direction. No way! Does that guy have telekinesis?? No, no. No geeking out. Only running for your life. But it’s too late. As soon as you manage to get your legs working again, you are positive that the car is going to crush you and grind your bones to dust.

You just started to accept your fate of becoming a pancake when you feel strong arms wrap around you. Suddenly, you are weightless and the world flies past you. Or maybe you are flying? Dazed, you crane your neck to see who rescued you. Red and blue fills your vision, your stomach flipping from the motion of you swinging through the air—oh god, you’re swinging! Wait, swinging? It takes a moment to register, but once you do, your jaw swings open as you gaze up at your hero. It’s Spider-Man! The Spider-Man whose posters hang on your walls and whose symbol is doodled on every spare scrap of paper you can get your hands on. Reading stories about him in the news is your favored method of procrastination.

Life or death situations are not the best times to fangirl over superheroes, but you’re young and completely obsessed with Spider-Man. You feel as if time has slowed around you as you gaze at him—utterly star struck. **“Uh, t-thank you,”** you stammer, tongue feeling oddly heavy in your mouth. Are you sweating? You might die if you’re sweating in the arms of Spider-Man himself. Maybe he couldn’t tell? No, he can definitely tell. You feel bad for sweating all over his nice suit as you clutch his torso. He says nothing in response until moments later he drops you off where Hayley is waiting for you.

**“Stay safe, kiddo,”** says your hero as he starts to swing back towards the action. You could watch him all day. How awesome is it that Spider-Man saved you from imminent disaster? **“And keep running!”** he shouts over his shoulder. Right. Running. You’re in danger, so you should be running. Stupid. This time you manage to ignore how overwhelmed you are by the current events and race through the rubble with your sister. Adrenaline courses through your veins, lungs burning as you gasp for air. It is hard to believe that only minutes before, you were sitting in the backseat of the car with your family, thinking that this day was just like any other. Oh how quickly things can change.

A volley of rubble rockets over your head, shattering storefront windows. You dodge to your left, pulling Hayley along with you as you momentarily take shelter beneath an archway of a building. There are a couple other people taking shelter here, but a quick scan reveals that none of them are your parents. You cast a quick glance around the edge of the building—you really need to stop looking back—and notice almost immediately that the fighting has followed you, and it is taking its toll on the surrounding buildings. Iron Man shoots rockets at his opponents, the lights dazzling you in a moment of fear and awe. It is one thing to read about these battles, it is another to witness the true power behind each blow with your own eyes. You watch as a vaguely Hulk-sized alien gets tossed into a building so forcefully that it crashes into the road on the other side, the walls crumbling in its wake. The sound reminds you of ocean waves crashing against the shore, but only if the waves were also shredding through the rocks like they were made of butter.

You have always thought of buildings as silent, inanimate things. But as you watch the structure tremble and collapse before your eyes, you realize that even non-living things can scream. **“We’re gonna die…”** you murmur, unable to tear your eyes away from the steadily growing wave of snapping wood and crumbling stone. Your sister has always been strong-willed, encouraging you to act even when you feel too scared to move, but even she seems to frozen in terror.

Grasping your sister’s hand, you start to back up, slowly at first, and then twisting around to run away. Your limbs are numb with terror—part of you already certain that you have no chance of escaping no matter how fast you move. The roaring and crashing becomes so loud that you can scarcely hear your own thoughts. And briefly, before the rubble swallows you whole, your eyes raise to the sky. Spider-Man saved you once before...perhaps...perhaps he might swing to the rescue one last time? Alas, your luck has run out.

….

You awaken to the sound of running water. The world fades in and out of darkness, red spots obstructing your vision. A wheeze escapes your lips—failing to form words as you become more and more aware of an uncomfortable weight pressing into your ribs. Your lungs burn, sucking in more and more dust with every panicked breath you take. Just ahead, you think you can see Hayley’s hair through the destruction. You attempt to claw forwards, skin tearing on uneven surfaces, but only managed to get so far before you realize that the pressure on your back is being caused by a heavy wooden beam trapping you in place. Your body feels the way Harry Potter’s arm looked in Chamber of Secrets when that one professor accidentally magicked away his bones. The only way you know that your spine isn’t broken is because everything hurts. Everything. Your attention is drawn to a wetness beneath you. At first you think you might have soiled yourself, or maybe you were bleeding out, but you can hear the faint whisper of water. A water pipe must have burst. The feeling is sort of refreshing, but you have seen the Titanic movie. The debris formed a bowl shape around you, and it’s only a matter of time before this area is flooded completely.

A sudden rush of displaced rubble startles you, eliciting a gasp from your parched throat.

**“Is anyone in there?”** You hear a masculine voice shout. Your first thought is that Spider-Man really did come back to rescue you. However, you are now aware of wailing sirens in the distance. Search party? A second voice speaking to the first one confirms your suspicions that this is just a regular rescue team, but you are not upset about it. You just want to get out of here.

**“Help—”** you croak. **“—please!”** the effort to speaks send you into a fit of coughs, your head jerking forward on reflex. A face full of water is there to greet you, and you are reminded that there is a limited amount of time before the water drowns you. “Here! We’re over here!” Hopefully the men heard you. The more you try to talk, the more it hurts. It is taking a lot of effort just to keep breathing. Your gaze flickers over to where Hayley lies, unmoving. Disturbed rubble spills down to where you are trapped, the sound of boots crunching over rock giving you a tiny flicker of hope. A sudden surge of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you once more attempt to wriggle towards the form of your sibling.

The men are working above you; sifting through the splintered wood and piles of demolished stone. Every time they clear away something in their path, it sends more and more rubble splashing down into where you are located. You are worried about the water, but there is a silver lining in everything. The level has now risen to about a foot of water, offering a bit of relief from the beam you are trapped beneath and allowing you to wriggle free. Your left leg burns with the movement—fractured, or worse. You’re just grateful that you were not paralyzed. A grimace mars your features as you push through the pain in a new attempt to reach Hayley.

You manage to crawl several feet before you are interrupted by a shaft of sunlight piercing through the darkness. Bleary-eyed, you look up and see the silhouettes of men in rescue gear. **“I see someone!”** One shouts, his face lighting up at the sight of you. It makes you wonder what kind of luck they had before. Invigorated, they pick up the pace at which they are clearing a path. In their haste, they failed to notice the exposed electrical wire until a pole they moved caused the wire to plummet to the ground. Well, it would be the ground if there was not a pool of standing water.

It all happens so fast that none of it makes much sense. One moment, you are gazing up at the men who are supposed to save you. The next, several hundred volts of electricity are coursing through your veins. If you were in pain before, it is nothing compared to what you feel now. Everywhere the water touches you—which is about everything except for your head—feels as if a million needles are stabbing you. In the beginning, it reminds you of the tingling you get when your leg falls asleep. But with every passing millisecond, the intensity grows to the point where all you can do is scream. You scream and scream until your voice shatters and breaks. All the nerves in your body burn in agony until you can feel nothing. You can hear the men shouting, scrambling to yank the cord out of the water. Your vision goes dark.

That is when something strange happens. Arcs of electricity dance across your skin painlessly, beautifully. The blistering red, damaged cells on your skin return to a healthy shade. Your broken leg was almost forgotten until you feel an unusual ache and then—snap—your bone moves back in place. You have never felt a stranger combination of sensations. It feels like your body is rebuilding itself, but you are not very sure. After everything that has happened to you today, you are fairly certain that you are overwhelmed and hallucinating. Can hallucinations explain bones snapping into place? Or the sensation of electricity being absorbed into your skin?

Hairs on the backs of your arms stand on end, wispy baby hairs along your scalp sticking straight out. The pain is absent now. The only sensation remaining is similar to when you used to slide across carpets in socks as a young child, building up enough static electricity to shock your unsuspecting relatives. This can’t be real. You glance up, moments before the rescue team removes the exposed wire from the puddle.

**“How are you alive?”** one of the men asks with an incredulous expression. He is the tallest one out of the two, hunched over awkwardly to avoid smacking his head on the broken bones of the structure. The two men exchange disbelieving looks between one another, but you don’t notice in your haste to escape. The shorter man reaches out a hand to pull you up. An electrical current sparks the moment your hand touches his, and he jerks back on instinct. It does not hurt him, but he seems apprehensive to touch you again.

Something clicks within you when your rescuer pulls you to safety. You try to say “thank you,” but your voice is so raw that you can only manage a pathetic wheeze. The initial shock of, well, everything has now worn off. A copious stream of tears roll down your cheeks as you sob silently. You don’t care that your body healed itself of third degree burns, you don’t care that you felt your bones repair themselves, and you certainly don’t care that you probably shouldn’t even be alive right now. You just want to go home with Hayley and find your parents.

**“Please, help my sister,”** you manage to croak, throat aching from overuse. **“—get us out of here.”** You point in the direction of Hayley’s prone body, trapped beneath the rubble. The shorter man nods his head in acknowledgement before walking towards your sibling.

**“Can you walk?”** the taller man asks. You give him a meek nod. Every part of your body feels numb, but you desperately want to leave. **“Okay, follow me. You’re safe now.”** Rocks crunch beneath your feet as you follow behind your rescuer. At one point, you are both forced to stand to the side as three other people pass. You assume that the short man from earlier radioed for more assistance. You don’t dwell on it too much.

Soon, you are sitting in the back of an ambulance, staring up at the space in the sky where the Q-shaped ship used to be. A medic is asking you a million questions while poking and prodding at you, but your thoughts are lightyears away. From the level of destruction in the surrounding area, the battle between the Avengers and the aliens must have been a tough one. It is almost impossible to imagine where they are now. Whatever it is that they’re doing, you only hope that this will finally put an end to the constant fighting.

A hand on your shoulder startles you from your thoughts. Your gaze finds that of the poor EMT who you have ignored this whole time. She is pretty, you realize, now that you look at her for the very first time. Her eyes are a soulful brown and almond-shaped, lips curled into a sympathetic smile. **“Look,”** she says, directing your attention to the wreckage they pulled you from. **“They are bringing your sister out now.”** Hayley is strapped to a gurney; unconscious, but alive. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as if a giant weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. Now you know that your sister is going to be okay. This is a crazy situation that you’re in, but it is comforting to know that you and Hayley can endure it together.

**“Thank you so much, mi—”** you stop short of thanking the woman, utterly baffled at the sight of her dissipating into dust right before your eyes. **“What...wait..what’s going on? Miss?”** She looks terrified as a gentle breeze blows through her form, scattering her across the winds like Lot’s wife when she got turned into salt. The hand resting upon your shoulder is the last to turn to dust.

Every time you start to feel safe, something else happens to throw you off balance.

Your head whips around to where you last saw Hayley and the rescue team. A strangled cry leaves your throat as you watch the empty gurney clatter to the ground, fine black dust disappearing with the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little recap: Y/N is about 12 in this chapter, y/n and her sister got separated from Mom and Dad, and y/n is that one person you scream at to keep running in the movies. But hey, at least she got rescued by her hero so it's a net-win >:^D She got her powers this chapter, too!! Yay!! Don't worry, I'll explain them a bit more in the next chapter. This ends with everyone getting dusted--also will be discussed in the next chapter.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! :^)


	3. We're More Ghosts Than People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of Infinity War, the world is slowly beginning to rebuild. People cope with the Snap in varying ways—some good, some bad. Y/N's mom is all but absent and the world is in shambles, but she is adjusting better than most. Even so, the ghosts of everyone she lost follows her at every step.
> 
> **depictions of pain**

Spider-Man never returned. He either died or disappeared during The Snap. Just like your sister, your father, and half of Earth’s entire population. Animals included. 

What remained of the government funded projects to erect memorials for the Lost, entire neighborhoods stood vacant as people flocked to cities for comfort, and cemeteries struggled to accommodate the influx of funerals for empty caskets. Crime spiked for a while until a bunch of volunteers banded together to supplement the struggling police force. The news broadcasts always talked about “rebuilding” and “moving on” and “becoming our own superheroes.” But they never addressed how people turned to looting when production stopped or how orphaned children wandered the streets days after The Snap. So many people died. Either from car crashes caused by the driver disappearing from behind the wheel or surgeons getting dusted in the middle of an operation. Women lost their babies. Suicide rates skyrocketed. In a world with superheroes, people get comfortable believing that the heroes will always save the day. No one ever stopped to consider what might happen if they failed.

A tiny glimmer of hope appeared when Tony Stark returned from space, only to shatter when he failed to bring the other superheroes with him before all but disappearing from the public eye. No one wanted to acknowledge that the Avengers lost, so rebuilding in the wake of disaster took a long, long time.

Police officers, first responders, doctors, teachers, community leaders—people essential to the functioning of a healthy society—disappeared in The Snap. But even in the wake of disaster, incredible people always step up to do the right thing. And so, slowly but surely, the world began to heal. Memories of lost loved ones lurked everywhere in the form of weathered “missing” posters and rows of empty houses, however, people stopped allowing those memories to hold them back. After The Snap came The Healing.

…. 

A car alarm goes off outside when you awaken, shafts of golden sunlight piercing through your blinds and disturbing you from your sleep. You don’t want to get out of bed. A sigh escapes your lips as you roll off your bed, trudging to the dresser to pick out your outfit for the day. The goal is to find the right tee-shirt and jacket combination to prevent anyone from noticing that you’ve been wearing the same pair of pants for about a week. You grab a canary yellow graphic tee and a jean jacket. Mission accomplished. 

You move to the vanity, running a brush through your hair and ignoring the pain as the bristles snag on tangles. You think a prayer for your poor, damaged hair and keep on brushing. No need to put on makeup today—you’ve been working to get rid of your most recent acne flare up and you’re not willing to risk making it worse. Hayley’s face smiles at you from a wooden picture frame, her arm slung around your dad’s waist as they pose in front of the Statue of Liberty. Your heart aches at the sight of it. Neither of them ever made it home. You watched Hayley disappear with your own eyes, but you are really not quite sure what happened to Dad that day. 

After your wounds mysteriously healed and the ensuing chaos Post-Snap distracted the remaining first responders, you somehow managed to wander all the way back home on foot. There, you sat on the porch steps for hours listening to wailing sirens and cries of anguish as the world crumbled around you. The sun had long since disappeared below the horizon when your mother finally arrived without your father. Covered in a layer of blood, sweat, and grime, she almost looked like she had a worse day than you. She remained silent, no matter how many questions you asked her, instead engulfing you in the longest hug of your life. You both needed it.

Months later, your mom packed up everything in the house and moved you to a smaller apartment closer to Midtown High School. She never talked to you about Dad and you never talked to her about your powers. The two of you forged an unspoken agreement to never address the events of that day. 

All prepared for the day, you opened your door and slipped into the kitchen. Your mom is at the dining table which is set for four, even though it is only the two of you in the house. Only a couple years ago, this place might have been filled with the clatter of plates and chattering of happy voices as everyone got ready for school or for work. But now an oppressive silence lingers in the air as you slink around like a criminal, quietly preparing a bowl of cereal while Mom stares blankly at her newspaper. She has aged considerably in recent months. She started her own business to help find homes and jobs for displaced people after The Snap, dedicating her life to helping others. It’s kind of ironic, considering how absent she is at home. You can’t remember the last time she said “I love you” or even a simple “good morning.” Some people turned to alcohol or drugs, your mom turned to her work. On one hand, you admire how much she has done for the community. On the other, you wish she would just talk to you about how she feels. You aren’t sure how much longer you can stand this silence. 

**“Bye, Mom,”** you say as you sling your backpack over your shoulder. She glances up and makes a small noise, almost like whatever she wanted to say died in her mouth.  **“...I’m heading off to school…”** Still, nothing. You sigh, and disappear out the front door.

…. 

School passes in a blur. Project presentation, pop quizzes, final exam assignments, decathlon practice. Like your mom, you have learned to fill up your day as much as possible. It helps distract you from the silence. Not only is your house quiet, but the world seems to be suspended in a permanent state of mourning. Kids joke around in the halls with hushed voices and when the conversation dies out, everyone looks around with vague expressions. The sadness is easier to escape when you give yourself barely any time to spend alone with your thoughts. The last thing you want is to be miserable all day, only for you to feel even worse when you finally have to return home. If you’re not careful, your thoughts begin to drift to the fact that soon you will be doing things your sister never got the chance to do. You plan on going to Washington D.C. with the decathlon next year, not to mention the fact that you already got your driver’s license. Before you know it, you will be touring colleges and getting jobs—all things Hayley missed out on when she disappeared with the rest of the Lost. The closer you get to the end of the academic year, the more these thoughts plague you.

….

At the end of the day, you send a quick text before going to stand out on the curb in front of the school. A brisk wind tugs at your sleeves, stray hairs freeing themselves from your ponytail and tickling your nose or getting into your mouth when you’re not careful. Only a couple minutes pass before a nondescript black SUV pulls up in front of you, the passenger side door swinging open on its own. The driver doesn’t look at you when you hop in, setting your backpack on the seat beside you. 

Buildings race past as you drive and drive, you drive until the buildings disappear and turn into quiet countryside. In the distance, the Avengers compound comes into view. You murmur a “thanks” to the driver when they drop you off at the entrance, driving off the moment you shut the door. A couple years ago, you began to realize that you didn’t hallucinate surviving electrical shock or your bones healing themselves. You were quick to write off how your skin became impervious to common injuries like paper cuts, but it was harder to ignore when you had dreams about being a cat-person-alien-thing and you woke up with feline eyes and two inch long claws. With your mother emotionally absent, you decided against confiding in her, and instead wrote a long-winded email to the Avengers explaining what happened to you and begging for help. It took a while to get a response, but eventually Blackwidow reached out to you and asked if you would be willing to take a few tests at the headquarters. 

Since then, you learned that, somehow, getting electrocuted changed your body on the molecular level. Evolution occurs naturally over many generations, but Agent Romanov explained that you are able to evolve in a matter of seconds. However, you also learned that it comes at the cost of using your body’s own resources. You did not suddenly become magical. You cannot pop new arms out of nowhere. But you can _grow_ extra arms as long as you can stand the intense, unimaginable pain the comes from sprouting two new appendages in seconds. It also makes you incredibly hungry. Imagine the amount of food a bunch of pubescent boys consume and then multiply it by ten—that’s how much you need to eat after sprouting gills or stopping bullets with your invulnerable skin. 

Without the threat of alien invasions, the Avengers compound is almost completely desolate. Aside from the essential staff, you only ever see Agent Romanov on your weekly visits. The faces of the Scarlet Witch, Vision, Doctor Strange, and Spider-Man stare down at you as you move silently through the hall. Your attention lingers on the familiar red mask, tracing over the intricate details in the design. It’s crazy to you that he rescued you from death only hours before he met his own end. Agent Romanov says he never returned from space. He must have been so scared… You shake off your thoughts, not wanting to waste precious energy mourning a hero you never knew. The last thing you want is to keep Agent Romanov waiting.

….

**“Sorry I’m late, Agent Romanov,”** your shoes squeak on the pristine concrete floor as you walk into the training room. 

The red haired woman looks up from a dossier and offers you a warm smile. She looks exhausted today. Granted, you can’t remember a time since you’ve known her that she didn’t have sad, red-rimmed eyes. Hell, she hasn’t even bothered to re-dye her hair after the natural red started growing back. 

**“Y/N,”** she sighs.  **“I’ve asked you a million times to call me Natasha.”**

**“I know, I know,”** you reply,  **“** — **it just feels too informal. I mean...you’re** **_Blackwidow_ ** **. I can’t believe that we’re on a first name basis.”**

She laughs at that, pretty and melodious. It’s your constant goal to give her a reason to smile. Natasha has helped you out so much by allowing you to come here and train; she deserves to smile and be happy. 

**“So,”** you say, stripping off your outer layers and slipping into the training suit Nat made for you.  **“What is on the schedule for today? Hand-to-hand combat? Survival training? When do I get my lightsaber?”** Natasha chuckles again, smacking you playfully on the shoulder. You learned quickly that she’s fond of Star Wars references. She says that it reminds her of Spider-Man and, hey, you kind of like the idea that both you and your former superhero crush have good taste in cinema. 

**“No lightsabers. Not sure if I can trust you with those,”** she winks at you playfully. 

**“Come on! Just once? Scout’s honor.”**

**“Nope, not a chance,”** Nat retorts.  **“Let’s practice some aerial combat. I’ll man the drones, you destroy them however you please.”**

**“Aye aye, Cap’n,”** you say with a mocking salute.

Your suit has a cutout on the back for occasions like this. One of the first things Natasha said when she found out you could go full-on “angel mode” was that it’s a highly valuable skill that you should practice. Because your body adapts so quickly to harsh environments and physical harm, you don’t have to think in order to become invulnerable or to breathe in low oxygen environments. But wings? That takes patience, willpower, and a lot of carbs. 

When you saw pictures of angels growing up, you never really thought about how they would require an entirely different bone structure. The sensation feels like growing pains—a dull ache which steadily blossoms into acute, burning agony. It begins with a new set of shoulder blades and rotating joints fusing to your spine, muscles and tissue weaving across the fresh bone as hair follicles adapt into feathers. That part hurts a normal amount—like when you grow six inches in a summer—but it’s when the rest of your bones begin to hollow so you’re light enough to fly, ribs shifting to accommodate a larger pair of lungs, that you truly start to acknowledge just how much pain you’re in. Millions of years of evolution takes place in a single minute, and soon a stunning set of iridescent hummingbird wings frame your body. It takes everything in you not to collapse, reaching for the nutrient-rich snack bar Nat offers you and devouring it like a starving animal.

**“You good?”** she asks, arching a brow.

**“I’m fine,”** not really, but you’re used to the pain by now. Not to be edgy, or whatever, but you would rather feel this pain than to feel nothing at all. You have always looked up to superheroes, and you kind of like the idea of becoming one yourself. It’s better than being sad all the time. One day, when you learn to master your abilities, you will be saving people just like Spider-Man saved you all those years ago.

You train with Natasha for several hours, pushing the limits of your abilities until you can scarcely move. Agent Romanov might look sweet and harmless, but there is a reason why she’s called the Blackwidow. Most people would go easier on a sixteen year old girl, but Nat is adamant that you need to get used to fighting until you have nothing left, digging deeper, and then fighting some more. After the aerial training, you moved onto target practice, obstacle courses, and one-on-one with Natasha, herself. 

Every bullet you fail to dodge, every time your body is forced to adapt to some extreme environment, every punch you land—it all drains you physically and emotionally. Just because you aren’t bleeding doesn’t mean you don’t feel every single blow. Your body still gets sore, and if you don’t eat enough after training, you might as well be unable to move at all. Thankfully, there is always a hearty supply of food ready for you when you finish these workouts. 

After you showered and changed back into plainclothes, you meet Nat in the dining hall so you can refuel before heading home. You never get used to walking in here. It is the size of a school cafeteria, maybe larger, and it is completely empty aside from the two of you. Only serves to remind you just how desolate the Avengers compound has become. Nat offers you a giant plate of pasta—seriously, it’s gargantuan—when you take a seat on the bench across from her. You grimace as you force your sore muscles to comply, mouth watering at the sight of the food. 

**“You did great today, Y/N,”** the woman says after you’ve helped yourself to several mouthfuls. She knows that you can’t really function until you get some food in you.  **“I’m impressed by how much you’ve grown since I first started training you.”**

**“Thank yo** —”

**“No, let me finish.”**

You quiet instantly, swallowing any words of thanks with your latest mouthful of pasta. Why does she look so serious? The anticipation nearly kills you.

**“It’s been...tough,”** she says, choosing her words carefully,  **“really, really tough the last couple of years. I** — **we failed to defeat Thanos, and it got a lot of people killed. The Snap...it changed everything. I’ve been struggling without my team here to help me, but meeting you has given me something to look forward to. You give me hope that maybe something good can come out of a terrible situation.”**

You’re absolutely speechless. Leave it to Natasha to drop a bomb like that when you’re gorging yourself on noodles like some sort of rabid toddler. Tears sparkle in the corners of your eyes as gaze at your companion, completely in awe of the praise she just bestowed upon you. When was the last time someone said something so kind to you? It’s been years, definitely. You must look like an overgrown child staring at Nat with big, cry-baby eyes and pasta sauce all over your face. It’s not exactly your most flattering moment, but you don’t really care.

**“I don’t know what to say,”** you admit, smiling sheepishly at the older woman.  **“I’m really honored, and you know that I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for—”**

**“Y/N, seriously, there’s no need to thank me. I helped you when you needed it the most, and now you’re helping me, too.”** Natasha stands up. She picks up a small, slate-colored box that you didn’t notice earlier and walks around to your side of the table, placing the package in front of you.  **“A gift. For you.”**

**“Really?”**

**“Really.”**

You stare at her a moment longer, some part of you unable to comprehend the idea that your mentor not only expressed her appreciation for you, but also is offering you a gift. A stern expression flickers across Nat’s features, and you rush to open up the package before she gets annoyed with your inability to function like a normal human being. The box is nondescript and smooth beneath your quivering fingers. Breath you didn’t realize you were holding escapes your lips when you finally see what is inside. It’s a bracelet with a thin, silver band. And it’s not just any old bracelet. You remember seeing prototypes of this scattered around Tony Stark’s old lab. 

**“Try it on,”** Natasha says. This time, you don’t hesitate.

The metal is cool against your skin as you slip it on. The face of the bracelet is about the size of a quarter; you press it, and the metal morphs into a high tech suit as nanotechnology spreads across your skin.  **“No way!”** you gasp, marvelling at how light and flexible the armor is. It is the same silver hue as the original band, with varying monochrome shades depending on the thickness or flexibility of the area. Your torso is a dark, iron hue with plates of sterling protecting your most vital areas. A pale silver forms the topmost layer—a sleek and agile imitation of traditional european armor. You sort of look like a weird fusion between a medieval knight and a stormtrooper.

**“I know you don’t necessarily need armor, but this should help absorb the shock of impact and conceal your identity. Plus, it can shift to accommodate wings or claws or whatever weird thing you decide to grow.”** Amusement sparkles in her eyes as she watches you inspect your gift.

Natasha can’t see it due to the helm obscuring your face, but you’re grinning from ear to ear. You rush forward, enveloping her in a tender embrace. You could cry right now, but you’re trying to keep it together.

**“Thank you so much,”** you gush, voice threatening to crack.  **“This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”** Your voice rings with honest truth. On most days, your own mother forgets that you even exist. And when she does acknowledge your presence, she acts more like a robot than a mom. In a way, Natasha has become a mom to you. Not that you will ever tell her as much, but the red-haired assassin cares for you when no one else does. 

**“So,”** Nat says, changing the subject.  **“Any ideas on what you want your alias to be?”** Oh, right. That. You have a couple ideas, but you were unable to settle on one when you sat down at your desk to brainstorm the night before.

**“Semblance or Replica. I couldn’t decide,”** you reply.

**“I like Semblance. Replica makes you sound tacky.”**

Natasha’s matter-of-fact reply makes you laugh. It’s just like her to shoot down an idea immediately without needing to think about it. 

**“Semblance, it is.”** You can’t keep yourself from smiling. This is it. It’s finally real. No more looking up to heroes, because now, now you get to be your own hero.

**“Come on, let’s finish dinner.”**

No argument from you. You’re still starving—as awesome as the suit is, your thoughts keep drifting back to the steaming bowl of spaghetti on the table. 

You fill up on several more servings of pasta, chatting and joking with Natasha. The cafeteria doesn’t feel so empty when the both of you are laughing at another one of your bad jokes. You don’t really want to go home, but it’s getting late. As absent as Mom is, you don’t want to push your luck. Eventually she will notice that you’re gone. 

After a quick exchange of goodbyes, you opt to fly yourself home. You have tried out several different kinds of wings in the past, but your favorites are that of a hummingbird. Learning how to emulate their aerodynamic adaptations was a bit of a learning curve, but now that you know what you’re doing, you are capable of flying just as fast with a considerable amount of agility. If anyone spots you soaring through the skyscrapers, you would never be able to tell. Dark buildings rush past you as you weave through the city, marvelling at the myriad of dazzling lights. It’s way past your curfew, but you want to make a pit stop at the Chrysler building. The rooftop is one of your favorite places to sit and watch the city below. But right now, you are eager to try out your new suit away from the watchful eyes of Natasha. 

You press the hidden button on the bracelet. Waves of silver nanotechnology ripple across your skin in a matter of seconds. You are no scientific genius, so you can’t say exactly how this sort of thing works, but you **have** poked around in the lab Tony Stark used to work in when he was an Avenger. From what you gathered, this technology is a lesser version of his suit, Mark 50, which had the ability to interpret the thoughts of the wearer and construct different tech at a whim. You wonder if this one has an AI built in. That would be cool. The longer you think about it, the more you want to know. Well, there is only one way to find out.

**“Um,”** you say apprehensively.  **“Can anyone hear me?”**

**“Hello, Y/N,”** says a feminine voice.  **“How may I help you?”** You have no idea where the voice originates from. Are there even speakers in this thing? You try not to dwell on it—there is no use in questioning a product of Stark Industries. The only thing that matters is that it works.

**“I’m not sure. What can you do?”**

**“I can do lots of things. All you have to do is ask.”**

This is it. The big moment. You have a high-tech suit with a super awesome AI, so you’re first order of business should be monumental. Something worthy of the occasion. You wrack your brain for ideas, but all the anticipation and excitement overwhelms your brain, and you mind blanks. It’s like when someone asks about your favorite movie and you immediately forget the names of all the movies that have ever existed, but worse.

**“Can you tell me the fastest way to get home?”** Lame. 

**“If you intend on flying home, standard GPS data does not apply to you,”** The AI replies in a helpful tone.  **“It will be approximately 35 minutes by taxi at this time of night, however.”**

**“Oh, right. Thank you...Wait, sorry, do you have a name, or something?”**

**“I do not.”**

Huh, that’s weird. Most systems have some sort of nickname for their artificial intelligences. There’s Siri, Alexa, and Google. Alright, no, the last one is less of a name and more of a vocal identifier. Or the people who created the technology were lazy and uninspired. 

**“Can I give you a name?”** you ask after a moment of thought.

**“If you would like to.”**

**“How about Glados?”** will she get the reference? Just the mere thought of it brings an amused smirk to your lips.   


**“Glados sounds nice.”**

Your expression falters, disappointed that Glados didn’t catch on. Oh well. You think you’re funny—with or without validation.

**“Alright then,”** you say after a short moment of silence.  **“Let’s go home.”**

You leap off the roof, freefalling with your wings folded against your back. The ground rushes towards you, faster and faster, until you unfurl your wings and skim the tops of the cars. In other places, people might question a mysterious individual plummeting from great heights, but this is New York. These people have endured alien invasions and apocalypse situations. For all they care, you’re just another weirdo cosplayer. And that’s just fine. You’re not quite ready to become a superhero like Cap or Iron Man. But, damn, you really do love to fly.

....

When you arrive home, the apartment is just as silent as when you left it. Bones snap and muscles tear as you return to your natural form. You pause, waiting for your mom to barge in and demand to know where you’ve been. She never does, though. Just like every other time. Quietly, you tiptoe towards the kitchen. Empty. You try her room next. Also empty; the bed still made. Figures. She’s still at work and didn’t even bother to call. Perhaps she just assumed that you’re used to her pulling all-nighters at the office. 

Pfft, whatever. You’re too tired to be mad at her. 

After grabbing a quick snack from the fridge, you return to your room and turn in for the night, hoping that maybe your mom might surprise you with breakfast in the morning. If only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter! 
> 
> For anyone wondering, Y/N's first mutation was the development of electrocytes and insulation in her body (essentially what allows electric eels to give off electrical currents and not be harmed). Still trying to figure out how I'm going to approach the next chapter. It will probably just feature a bunch of short scenes that progress through the events of Endgame just for the sake of not writing 10,000 words lol
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! :^)


	4. Face to Face With The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After almost a year of training, Semblance makes her debut as a hero. The world is healing, but some wounds never go away. When Semblance receives an urgent message from Blackwidow, she is soon informed of a risky mission that might just turn the world back to the way it was before.

Mrs. McWhortor drones on and on, repeating the same long-winded tales of how amazing her children are. You cannot fathom how many times you have heard these stories and you don’t really care. All you know is that the class has supposedly been reading Hamlet the past couple of weeks, and yet, not a single word has been read aloud in class. Your teacher seems to think that wasting your time in class and then assigning several hours of homework will somehow make you care about the content. Honors English classes are a joke. 

You tune out the surrounding noise, plugging in your crappy headphones to your outdated smartphone and pulling up YouChube. This is your daily routine in pretty much every class except for Calculus—the only class you need to try in. High school is okay, but you wish there were more opportunities for a challenge. A text notification catches your attention halfway through a gaming Let’s Play that you picked at random. Hmm, Natasha sent you a message. That’s unusual. You tap on the notification.

_ ‘Come to HQ ASAP. It’s urgent.’ _

A frown pulls at the corners of your lips. In all the years you’ve spent working with Blackwidow, she has never sent you something like this. Plus, you haven’t seen her in a couple of days. She said something about taking a “business trip.” A sense of unease washes over you and you check the time. 10:42am. Class ends at 10:45. You tap your foot impatiently, staring down the clock in hopes time will speed up. It’s the longest three minutes of your life. You’re packed up and moving out the door by the time the bell finally rings. Your teacher says something about a test as you leave, but you pay her no heed. She’s already wasted enough of your time.

You blend into the crowd of seniors with half-day schedules as they head towards home or work or whatever it is they do. Anxiety courses through your veins, hands shaking slightly. How is it that you can help Blackwidow fight criminals but ditching school makes you so nervous that you might throw up? 

Part of you worries about the school calling your mom, but you quickly disregard that issue. Your mother has been physically and emotionally absent for five years. You doubt that anything will change because you decided to skip school. And that’s assuming anyone notices that you’re missing.

You press the button on your bracelet, nanotechnology rippling across your skin in a beautiful display. In a fraction of a second, your features are concealed by your suit. 

Bones snap and muscles tear as you begin to grow a set of wings, bones hollowing and lungs enlarging to make you worthy of flight. You’re used to the pain by now. It takes about ten seconds for the process to complete, revealing dark brown feathers and a wingspan of about fifteen feet. White-throated Needletail wings—the bird with the greatest flapping speed on earth. Although, technically, you can mutate attributes that do not exist in the natural world, you’ve learned that studying real life organisms helps you shift with ease. 

You snag a special-made protein bar out of your backpack and devour it in a couple of bites. With the fatigue of growing wings gone and your bag held securely in hand, you take off into the sky. Down below, people exclaim at the sight of you. Just recently, Natasha approved of you finally getting out on the streets and patrolling. It took several months of beating up common thugs and coming to the rescue in every-day emergencies before people started to warm up to you. Someone on the news the other day called you the “New Spider-Man,” but that only served to sadden you. The last thing you want is to be some dead guy’s replacement—it’s not fair to either of you. 

If you weren’t so concerned about getting to the Avenger’s HQ, you might have taken your time on the flight over. It is a gorgeous day: a gentle breeze pushing cotton ball clouds across the sky. Sometimes you feel like you’re living in a painting—there’s no way anything this beautiful could be real. You’ve seen a lot more animals around, too. New York has never been so clean. But was this beauty worth losing so many people?

There’s no time to dwell on such things. 

The first thing you notice as you finally arrive at HQ is the unusual amount of activity going on. Normally this place is as desolate as a ghost town. Today, however, cars pull in and out of the lot and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents move supply shipments into the building. What the...?

You land, feeling uneasy. Bones snap and crack as you revert to your normal form, but you hesitate to remove the helm. You want to stay anonymous; the Avengers never cared about secret identities, but you do. In a way, being able to take off the suit and return to living a normal life is just as freeing as putting on the suit. And maybe a little part of you is a bit unwilling to completely turn your back on your other dreams. As long as you have these powers, you will probably feel obligated to do good because of them; but you had dreams long before you had powers. You want to be an artist, or a scientist, or a voice actor, or, hell, you even like the idea of being a farmer? Are you willing to give up the possibility of pursuing one of those paths because you chose to be a superhero instead? 

Before you could become totally overwhelmed by your thoughts, Natasha arrives. Thankfully, she seems to understand your dilemma; casting a glance to the agents bustling about and offering you a knowing smile. 

**“Semblance—it’s good to see you,”** she turns and motions for you to follow.  **“We have a lot to discuss.”**

**“What’s going on? Why are there so many people?”**

**“I’m going to introduce you to some people first. Then everything will be explained.”**

**“Introduce me to wh—”** You stop short, staring blankly at the scene in front of you as Natasha leads you into a room full of people you never thought that you would meet. Tony Stark, Captain America, Hulk, War Machine, Hawkeye, Thor, and three others you don’t recognize: a regular dude you’d probably see at 3:00am at a 7/11, a raccoon wearing pants, and a scary blue lady.

The Avengers.

You stare at them, petrified. They probably think that you’re a complete idiot.

**“Oh,”** Mr. Stark says, breaking the silence.  **“You’re the one I made the suit for.”**

You glance at Nat. You always assumed that someone else made the suit using Tony’s schematic. It never crossed your mind that maybe Tony Stark made it himself. 

**“This is Semblance—”** Again, Natasha comes to the rescue.  **“I’ve been training her these past couple of years. Semblance, this is our team. Plus Scott, Rocket, and Nebula.”**

You aren’t quite sure who is Rocket and who is Scott, but clearly the blue woman is Nebula. Upon closer examination, you realize that she is, in fact, a cyborg. Huh, that’s pretty cool.

**“Uh, hi,”** you stammer, managing to give them a pathetic wave.

**“Don’t be so nervous,”** Thor interrupts with a laugh.  **“It’s good to meet you.”** He claps a hand on your back—he’s definitely gained some weight and he reeks of alcohol. You don’t judge him, though. After watching everyone around you struggle to cope Post-Snap, you can only imagine how deeply pained the Avengers felt when they failed to stop Thanos. Natasha mentioned something a while back about how Thor was the last one to attack before the Snap. It looks like he has yet to forgive himself. 

**“It’s nice to meet you, too.”** Were you brave enough, you might have given Thor a hug. Poor guy looked like he needed one, and from the way the others joke about his weight when the conversation moves to a different topic, you think that maybe they aren’t taking his pain seriously enough. 

You follow their gazes, still a bit overwhelmed to be surrounded by all the people you have looked up for your entire life. 

But when the awe wears off, you finally remember why you were brought here in the first place. And you notice how odd it is for everyone to be in the same room since the Avengers disbanded.  **“Wait...so what was so urgent?”** you ask. No one’s dying. You didn’t see a spaceship on the way here, so…  **“And why is Mr. Stark back all of a sudden?”**

Just like that, all eyes were on you once more. 

Tony narrows his eyes at you, choosing his words. Maybe that came off as harsh? You can’t blame the guy for disappearing, and he made it pretty adamant that he wasn’t coming back. So why now? What made him change his mind. 

**“We’re going to go back in time, take the stones, and reverse the Snap.”**

Tony’s response is so sudden that you practically gape at him in surprise. He seems to find that amusing, smirking at your shocked expression.

**“Is that really possible?”** you look to Natasha for some sort of explanation.

She nods. You catch her gaze flicker over to Tony, perhaps to gauge just how much information she should reveal to you.  **“We found a way. But it is going to be difficult,”** Natasha places a hand on your shoulder.  **“I need you to stay back and help Bruce with the machine.”** A flicker of emotion crosses her face at the mention of Doctor Banner. You always assumed there had been something between them in the past, but you never bothered to ask. Despite your curiosity, you are not fond of prying into other people’s business.    
  
**“Oh,”** you say pathetically.  **“I can do that.”**

The conversation continues without you. Not that you care—this is all over your head, anyways. At seventeen, you are little more than a kid in a costume. You’re not a genius billionaire or a god from another planet. You are just a girl who happened to gain some crazy powers during the worst day of your life.    
  
Eventually, Bruce approaches you and offers to show you the time machine. You are unsure of how to react to his new appearance: halfway between man and hulk. But he seems to be at peace with himself, so you don’t think too much about it. You are, however, surprised by the appearance of the machine. It looks nothing like you imagined it. No blue police box or pimped out car, just a strange looking platform. On second thought, it reminds you of those terrifying rides at the carnival that spins you so fast that you stick to the walls.    
  
You take your time to familiarize yourself with the procedure. It is your job to help Doctor Banner check for any signs of tampering or a malfunction. There is also the potential for one of the Avengers to come back seriously injured, so you also have the responsibility of conducting first aid, if necessary. You hope that it won’t come to that. 

The longer you stand there, in that vast and empty room, the more you realize just how serious the situation is. Time travel is extremely dangerous. Even you are aware of the numerous theories surrounding the consequences of actions made while traveling in a time period that is not your own. A part of you is relieved that you will not have to make that journey. Your thoughts drift to Nat. She must be terrified, but she still is determined to take the chance. You cannot even begin to imagine what the Avengers felt when they failed five years ago. The loss of your father and sister weighs heavy on your soul, but the Avengers live with the weight of every single person who fell victim to Thanos' purge. If they succeed in stopping Thanos before he even starts, then they stand the chance of bringing back the Lost. The thought fills you with equal parts of hope and dread. 

All there is left to do now is wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost a year and I finally got the next chapter done!!
> 
> I apologize for the wait. I lost interest for a while but I wanted to revisit this since I have the time. Unfortunately, I sort of forgot what I was going for when I started writing this particular chapter a couple months ago. That's why this is kind of meh compared to the others. Just a side note...if a character wears a mask to conceal their identity, just assume that they will be wearing it. I know the movie likes to forget that some heroes have a secret identity, but this is an important aspect for the sake of the story.
> 
> I promise there is actual romance coming soon!! just have to get past the more depressing part of the movie :^)


	5. The Last Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haunted by the final moments she had with her family, Semblance worries about Natasha going on the mission. Promises are made, and broken.

It’s time. 

The Avengers will be sent through the quantum realm to try and acquire all the infinity stones before Thanos. You find yourself admiring the heroes as they make their way to the time machine. You grew up watching Iron Man and Captain America on the news. You have witnessed their fights with alien invaders and watched them take down Ultron. 

They were disheartened after what happened during the Infinity War, but now their tired eyes shine with hope. You cannot speak for all the heroes, but you have spoken to Natasha many times regarding her guilt over failing to stop Thanos. Even Cap has expressed frustration in the rare moments he stopped to visit Nat at headquarters over the years. Now they have a chance at retribution. 

You massage your left palm—a nervous habit. Millions, _billions_ , of lives are on the line. Doctor Banner explained to you earlier that even if the mission of retrieving the stones is successful, they all must be returned to the exact moment in time they were removed. If they fail to do so, countless new timelines will appear and potentially doom alternate realities. You want to believe in them wholeheartedly. The Avengers have protected New York and the rest of the world countless times, so you should trust them to complete the mission and come back safely.

And yet...your mind drifts to The Snap. That was the worst day of your entire life. You lost your sister, your father, and even your mother, to some extent. There are so many words that you regret leaving unsaid. You don’t want to make the same mistake this time.  
  
**“Nat?”** The red-haired woman pauses mid-step. **“Can I talk to you for a moment? In private?”** She looks to her companions and makes a subtle gesture. The rest of the heroes continue on without her. 

The two of you stand alone in the hallway. You open your mouth, but all the things you wanted to say suddenly seem inadequate. Natasha makes a face, and she looks like she is about to say something until you suddenly step forward and envelop her in a hug. **“Thank you,”** you say softly. **“For everything.”**  
  
Nat takes a step back, holding you gently by your arms. **“What do you mean?”** she asks, a crease forming between her brows. There is a tenderness in her expression as she gazes down at you. Your heart lurches.  
  
**“Without you...I don’t know what I would have done after The Snap,”** you admit. **“You taught me how to use my powers and you have supported me in a way that no one else ever has.”** _Not even my own mother_ , you think to yourself. In a way, Nastaha has become a mother figure to you. She makes sure you get enough to eat and she hassles you when you procrastinate homework assignments in favor of hero duties. You don’t really know any of the other Avengers beyond what you’ve read or seen on TV, but Natasha is a major part of your life now. You are aware of the dangers involved with this mission, and that makes you all the more reluctant to let her go.  
  
**“Oh, y/n,”** Natasha murmurs, voice thick with emotion. **“Deciding to train you is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”** She cups your face with her hands and you have to take a deep breath in order to resist the sudden urge to cry. **“When this is all over, we can have another Star Wars marathon like we did for your birthday.”** She offers you a smile, but you don’t miss the sadness sparkling in her eyes.

 **“You promise?”**

**“I promise.”**

The memory of the two of you watching movies together in one of the many empty rooms of HQ pushes you over the threshold. You choke back a sob and hug her again. For the past five years, it has just been you and Natasha against the world. Every birthday, every anniversary, every holiday has been spent together. You have to believe that everything is going to be okay. You have to believe in _her_. 

….

The wait is excruciating. 

You understand why you stayed behind. Hell, you’re _grateful_ that you don’t have to risk your life doing something no one else has done before. You aren’t even sure if you’re totally committed to being a hero yet. Even so, a part of you wishes that you could go with Nat. That last long look that she gave you...You don’t want to lose another parental figure. Maybe you won’t risk your life for the planet, but you would gladly risk your life for her. She is the selfless hero that you can never be. _Please come back._

After what feels like a million years, you finally hear the soft metallic song of the time machine whirring to life. You leap to your feet and hurry to the bottom of the steps, eyes locked on the top of the platform. The machine makes a loud noise, the individual parts rippling like a wave, and then the Avengers appear before your eyes. 

**“Did we get em all?”** You hear Doctor Banner ask as the heroes glance around, looking as awestruck as you felt. You can’t see them well from where you stand, but you’re only looking for one person. Your heart beats erratically. 

Rhodey chuckles in disbelief. **“Are you telling me this actually worked?”**

Doctor Banner notices you loitering near the steps and he waves you over. He offers you a faint smile as you approach tentatively, acknowledging your apprehension. The only ones you know are Mr Stark, Cap, and the doctor. The only person you _know_ is Natasha. 

Just as you crest the steps, Hawkeye falls to his knees. The man’s expression is blank, his eyes haunted, and the space to the right of him is empty. _No, no, no_.

 **“Clint?”** Doctor Banner asks, his voice urgent. **“Where’s Nat?”** _No, no, no, no._

The silence is long and oppressive. All eyes are on Hawkeye, the man you know as one of Natasha’s oldest and dearest friends. She often lamented about his absence, and she seemed ecstatic that she was able to track him down so that he could help the rest of the Avengers on this mission. How could he return without her? 

He gives Cap a mournful look, and your heart plummets. Nobody knows what to say. Tears cloud your vision, the grief making it difficult to breathe. You assumed that if anything went wrong, it was likely that several people would be injured and maybe one person missing. You never thought you would see every single Avenger return unscathed. Every single Avenger except for the one person left on this planet whom you cared for more than anything else. 

Doctor Banner collapses, the floor of the platform crumpling beneath the weight of his sadness. It’s all you can do to shuffle forward and rest a hand on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely planned on covering more plot in this chapter but uhhhh i forgot that i'm still mad about Natasha's death
> 
> i haven't decided if semblance is going to be present for Thanos' arrival yet, so don't be surprised if there's some major timeskipping going on. I am quite fond of making everyone (including myself) wait in agony for actual peter content so I might force myself to write like 4 more chapters before he even makes an appearance yeehaw
> 
> i meant it when i said this is a slow build.


	6. Alone, Again

No one really knows what to do with the teenager amongst them; each person conveniently finding a way to shuffle away and eventually leaving you alone on the platform to stare at the fist-shaped dent that Doctor Banner left on the metal floor. You don’t take it personally—Natasha was your only real connection to this place. She was the only Avenger at HQ when she took you in as her trainee, so you’re little more than a stranger to the rest of the heroes.

Stifled sobs shake your body as you crouch there, staring at your distorted reflection on the platform. You only allow yourself a few moments to cry before you stand up and wipe away the tears; you are devastated, but you still need to be strong. 

Natasha gave her life in exchange for the soul stone. She made a sacrifice so her friend could live instead, so the world could be restored. You should be proud, right? So why do you wish that you stopped her from partaking in the mission at all? No, no, you won’t allow yourself to think such selfish thoughts. This whole thing is bigger than you. 

You are surprised to find Mr Stark waiting for you by the door when you finally make your way toward the exit.  **“Do you need somethin’, Mr Stark?”** You ask, trying to prevent your voice from wavering. Maybe he needs you to run some errands? Why else would he pay you any attention? Saving the world must be more important than talking to a high school girl.

**“How are you doing, y/n?”** he asks. 

**“I** — **”** your voice fails you.

All those minutes you spent trying to subdue your emotions are for naught. Tears spring in your eyes. You feel guilty for making assumptions about him. You never anticipated that Mr Stark would be the one to check up on you, much less remember your name. 

He seems to hesitate for a moment before awkwardly pulling you into a hug. The dam in your heart cracks, and all the emotions you’ve repressed come rushing out in a flood. Mr Stark is silent as you cry on his chest—a small voice in your head worries about his expensive clothes, but it’s quickly forgotten.  **“It’s alright,”** he says softly,  **“Let it out, kid.”**

**“Why did she have to go?”** You sob, choking on the words. 

**“She did it for you. She wanted to make a better world for you.”**

**“I don’t understand, Mr Stark...”** It doesn’t make sense. Natasha was a member of the most important group of heroes on the planet. She had fans all over the world and millions of people who looked up to her. Why would she risk her life for someone like you?   
  
Mr Stark makes a soft clicking noise with his tongue.  **“First of all, call me Tony,”** he says, gently taking you by the shoulders and pushing you back so he can look you in the eye. You shift your weight, suddenly feeling uncomfortable feeling the full weight of his attention.

**“Um, okay, Mr** — **uh, Tony.”** You flush bright red, but Tony only nods in approval before he continues. 

**“Second of all, you need to understand that we all have people who we do this job for. We aren’t as selfless as we seem.”** You stare at him in confusion.  **“I almost refused to help on this mission. I thought Nat and Steve were crazy** — **I have a daughter and a wife at home whom I love very much, so why would I risk all of that to try and fix what we already lost? The thing is, kid, that when Nat told me about you and how you gave her hope for the future, it reminded me of someone.”**

It takes you a moment, but you realize who Tony is referencing.  **“Spider-Man?”** You remember talking with Natasha a couple years ago about how Spider-Man was Tony’s protégé. She said that their relationship inspired her to take you on as a trainee. It was always flattering to compare your heroic path to Spider-Man’s.

Tony nods solemnly.  **“Natasha said that she would do anything to bring back the ones we lost, but also to give you a better world...If I could go back and give my life so that Pe** — **”** He pauses, glancing down at you. Thankfully for him, you don’t notice his slip up.  **“** — **So that Spider-Man could live, I would. This mission is my only opportunity to give that kid another chance at life. I will happily trade my life for his, and I’m sure Nat felt the same way about you.”**

You are torn between feeling touched and feeling guilty, but you feel a little better. It’s weird to hear that someone would sacrifice themselves in your stead; your own mother never seems to give you the time of day, and yet, Blackwidow, an Avenger, found strength in protecting you. It’s a lot to process. A part of you still wishes that it would have been Hawkeye instead of Nat, but Tony is quick to distract you from that train of thought.

**“Go home, kid. We can chat again once we’re done saving the world.”**

All you can do is nod. Nat said something similar. She promised that she would come back and have a movie night with you, and she broke that promise to save the world. After listening to Tony’s little speech, you find it hard to invest much hope in ever speaking to him again. 

**“Oh, one more thing,”** Tony says. You stop just as you’re about to get in the car that’s waiting to take you home, a puzzled expression crossing your features.  **“Take this. It was in her office.”** Tony hands you a photo of you and Nat last year at your seventeenth birthday party. Mom had forgotten about your birthday and spent the night at work, so Natasha invited you to HQ to watch Star Wars and eat junk food. It was the best birthday you’ve had since losing Dad and Hayley.

**“Thank you so much, Tony,”** Is all you can manage to say before the tears return in full force. He offers you a kind smile and gently shuts the door. You swivel your head to watch his form get smaller and smaller as the car speeds away. 

….

When you finally arrive back at your apartment, you find your mother asleep at the table. A mountain of files towers over her—she must be in the middle of another difficult case. All she does is find homes for people displaced by The Snap and try to reunite people who are still looking for their families. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you retrieve a blanket and drape it over her shoulders. It’s hard to be upset with her when she works herself to the bone in her mission to help others, but there is no denying that she practically forgets you exist.

After a long shower, you retreat to your room and change into a comfortable pair of pajamas: oversized pants that you have to roll to accommodate your height and an old Spider-Man t-shirt. It’s comforting to think that you were the Spider-Man to Natasha’s Tony Stark. Although you miss her desperately, you find it interesting that there are so many parallels between your life and your favorite childhood superhero. 

Before you go to bed, you tuck the picture of yourself and Natasha into the frame of your mirror, right next to an old photo of Dad and Hayley. Several moments pass as you gaze longingly at the red-haired woman's smiling face. Her absence weighs heavy on your heart, causing you to fall back on your bed in hopes of soothing the unbearable ache. Nat’s sacrifice might be the key to you seeing your family again, and maybe even meeting Spider-Man. Your heart aches at the thought. Is the reward truly worth the price? You’re not sure if that’s a question you want to know the answer to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more i write, the more i realize i hate second person  
> why did i do this to myself
> 
> i have zero idea if my writing makes sense anymore, but i'm impatient to reach the part where the actual romance starts. but there's at least another chapter before anything fun happens... again, why do i do this to myself.


End file.
